


Blackbird

by James018



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Video Game: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/James018/pseuds/James018
Summary: “For God’s sake, Merula. I’m a Hufflepuff. We don’t do arch-enemies!” Sometimes, the heart just wants what it wants. And sometimes, there’s a very good reason for it.





	Blackbird

You don’t remember exactly when you first started fancying Merula Snyde.

It obviously hasn’t always been this way. You were eleven when you first met, and had barely outgrown the cooties phase. For the first two years at Hogwarts, Merula was an annoyance, occasionally a genuine threat, but mostly nothing more than a persistent fly that you couldn’t quite swat. That’s not to say you ever hated her or went out of your way to cause her harm; hell, you even grudgingly helped her out a couple of times. But generally, you were perfectly happy to leave well enough alone, and hope, albeit largely in vain, that she might return the favour.

The summer before third year was when you started dreaming about girls. The sort of dream that would have you waking up sweating in bed, in sore need of a few Cleaning Charms. Even then, it was hard to call that a crush. You dreamed of Merula, sure, but you also dreamed of just about every other girl close to your age that you knew. Penny. Tonks. Tulip, after a while. (You don’t remember ever dreaming about Ismelda, but that’s hardly a surprise.) These dreams frightened you more than a bit, because you knew you were only supposed to be with one person. When you finally mustered up the courage to ask your mum about all of this, she told you not to worry, that this was normal for teenage boys and everything would sort itself out in time, and that in the meantime you ought to treat all your female friends with courtesy and respect. You took that advice to heart, and have followed it ever since.

You’re older now, wiser. You haven’t started dating yet, unlike most of your classmates. You want to get your head straight first before taking the plunge. Of course, your reticence has not gone unnoticed, and has resulted in all kinds of speculation about your sexual proclivities, most often centring on your friendship with Rowan. The two of you laugh about it in the dormitory, of course. After all you’ve been through, this is water off a duck’s back. You’ve been the subject of far worse rumours before.

The opinions you really care about are those of your friends. Rowan, bless him, is as unobservant as they come, which isn’t that surprising given his nose is always stuck in a book. Even though he’s occasionally teased you about Penny, you’re quite sure he’ll never notice the glances you sneak at Merula in Potions class or at mealtimes in the Great Hall, not unless you openly admit you fancy the girl. Which you’ve thought about. A burden shared is a burden halved, and all. But Rowan has always disliked Merula more than you do, from that very first argument outside the Potions classroom. You’ve never forgotten that he wanted to leave her behind in the cursed ice at the end of first year. No, he wouldn’t understand.

The others are all out of the question, for various reasons. You’ve considered going to Bill – the bloke is like an older brother to you – but he’s always busy with prefect and Head Boy duties, not to mention keeping his actual brothers in line. You don’t want to be another weight on his shoulders. Ben is afraid of girls (no surprises there). Tulip, in her own words, is “too busy for romance”. Tonks… you’re not sure Tonks ever takes anything seriously. Andre could be of help, but you don’t feel like you know him well enough yet. Same goes for Charlie, and the thought of confiding in Barnaby makes you snort pumpkin juice all over the Hufflepuff table.

The one person you hope never finds out about your inmost thoughts is Penny. Oh, _Penny_. In many ways, she’s as close a friend to you as Rowan is, and in some ways perhaps closer. If what you’ve been through together when searching for the Cursed Vaults wasn’t enough to cement your friendship, then the incident in third year with the Forgetfulness Potion certainly did. Your chest swells with pride when you think that, of all her friends at Hogwarts (and there are very few people she _isn’t_ friends with), you’re the one she opened up to and trusted with her deepest secret – you and no one else. You’re quite sure there is no one at Hogwarts who knows her better than you do.

The thing is, Penny is the one you _should_ be pining for. The moment Andre mentioned dating in your third year, she’s the one who sprang to mind, and even now, when you imagine going on a date in the Three Broomsticks, it is Penny holding your hand, Penny sitting across from you, Penny leaning in to kiss you… It feels natural, right, and well it should. Penny is beautiful, kind, brave, intelligent, perceptive, and every other virtue you can think of: what else could you ask for? She’s also your friend, you’re definitely attracted to her, and she seems to like you too. You’re reasonably confident that if you asked her out to the next Hogsmeade trip, she wouldn’t say no.

But you just can’t bring yourself to do that. And that seriously messes with your head. Because Penny is the logical choice. You can see yourself settling down with Penny, marrying her, having a couple of kids. And yes, you know that’s an unusual level of commitment for someone in their mid-teens, but you’ve always been like that. Logical, practical. It’s why the Sorting Hat nearly put you in Ravenclaw. You only want to date someone who you see a real future with; if you didn’t, it would make you feel dirty and dishonest. You can see that sort of future with Penny. You don’t see it with Merula; the thought of her as a housewife makes you spit-take your pumpkin juice again (even Rowan is staring at you weirdly now). But despite all your rationalisations, no matter how many times you turn it over in your head, the simple truth remains: _she’s the one you want_. Not Penny. Merula.

It’s not just her looks, although you can’t deny that’s a part of it. Yes, you want to run your fingers through that tangled mop of dark hair, and yes, you could stare endlessly at the lock, inexplicably lighter than the rest, that hangs over her forehead, and of course, those violet-rimmed eyes are exotic and hypnotising. But other girls have their fascinating features as well, so you’ve long since known that your obsession goes way beyond physical attraction. But what else is there? There’s nothing in her personality that makes her attractive. She’s mean, cruel, bigoted, spiteful, arrogant and vindictive. The more you think about it, the more you realise she is the exact opposite of Penny, and not in a good way.

It takes a lot of introspection, plenty of tossing and turning in bed, and countless hastily made excuses to be alone (you even skive off Defence Against the Dark Arts class a couple of times, telling Rowan you’re ill – it’s not like you’ve ever learned anything in that class anyway) before you think you’ve put your finger on it. You sympathise with Merula. In fact, no, sympathise isn’t the right word. You _empathise_ with her.

You’ve known since the first week of your first year, when Rowan told you what he’d found out over a game of Gobstones, that Merula’s parents had been thrown into Azkaban for supporting You-Know-Who. On some level you’ve always understood what a sore point that must be for her. You’ve never admitted to her that you know her secret, never thrown it in her face and certainly never blabbed to anyone else. Oh, you’ve been tempted, many times, but it’s a line you’ve refused to cross. But it’s only now that you start to consciously ask yourself what it must be like for Merula, not having a mum and dad. Who raised her? What’s her home life like? Has anyone ever told her they loved her? And then at Hogwarts, being in Slytherin where her parents’ fates are probably common knowledge, it stands to reason that she would find few friends in a house where status means everything. Now you come to think of it, you can only remember seeing her in the company of Ismelda and Barnaby, and even those have never looked to you like real friendships at all.

Merula, you start to realise, is bereft, hurt and _lonely_. And that is something you can relate to. At about the same time that Merula lost her family, you lost yours. Jacob – the big brother who you loved and looked up to – Jacob disappeared and you feel still no closer to finding him after all these years. In the aftermath, your dad, a Muggle but still _your dad_ , left you and your mum, unable to cope. That left just the two of you, a single parent without a stable job supporting a young son. Right when you needed her most, you barely saw your mum because she was taking any work she could get just to put food on the table. So, yes, you know the aching loneliness that must be burning inside Merula, driving her to prove herself the only way she knows how. If it wasn’t for the friends you’ve made since then – if you’d never run into Rowan outside Flourish and Blotts on that first trip to Diagon Alley – you may have turned out exactly like that yourself.

So you want to help. You want to fix her. It sounds trite, it sounds cliché, it sounds frankly like a very bad idea. But you want to try. You can’t help it. That’s the reason why the Hat ended up putting you in Hufflepuff, not Ravenclaw. For you, people – living, breathing people – are more important than any form of reason or rationality. Even people like Merula… _especially_ people like Merula. It’s those who live without love who need it the most. No one should have to be alone.

You stand to your feet, leaving your dinner half-eaten. At the moment, you can’t stand to be around others, in a world that so easily leaves people behind. Are you the only one who notices? Are you the only one who cares? Are you, Merula’s sworn enemy, the only one willing to love her?

Your feet have carried you down into the basement, not far from the common room, when you hear someone speak your name behind you. Your last name, with a familiar tone and inflection of dry disdain.

You still. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Hello, Merula,” you say.

Merula stalks into your line of sight and wheels to face you. Messy brown hair with the tawny lock, violet eyes, ruffled-looking Slytherin robes. You force yourself to tune out her appearance and focus on her words.

“Looking for vaults?” she sneers. You sigh inwardly. Of _course_ it would be about that.

“Not tonight,” you say. “Our common room’s down here too, you know. I’m on my way to bed.”

You wait to see if she’ll leave. She doesn’t. Instead, she takes a step closer to you. You can feel her breath on your face, and your spine tingles.

“You’re going to fail, you know,” she says quietly. “I’ll find the other vaults before you, and what’s inside them will be mine. You’ll never reach them, and you’ll never find your idiotic brother. You’ll always be alone.”

“Like you?” The words come out before you can stop them. It’s what you’ve been thinking about all evening, after all.

Merula stiffens instantly and you know that you’ve touched a nerve. You were right about her, but being right isn’t always for the best. Especially when you rub her face in it.

Hastily trying to mend the damage, you add, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Merula blinks, and it occurs to you that perhaps no one has ever apologised to her before. Then the sneer is back. “Don’t pretend you know anything about me. You’ll just embarrass yourself,” she spits.

You shrug. “I know more than you think. It’s been five years. You’d think we’d have learned something about each other.”

“All I’ve learned about _you_ is that you’re a loser and a failure,” Merula retorts instantly. “And all you need to know about me is I’m the one who will crush you like the bug you are.” She smirks. “You’re already dead. You just don’t know it.”

Sighing, you give up. You just don’t know how to get through to her. But just as you make to step around her, something breaks inside you. You’re tired of holding back, tired of being passive, tired of _letting her be your enemy_.

So, you stop in your tracks and turn to face Merula again. Looking her in the eye, you ask simply, “Why do you hate me?”

A look of consternation crosses Merula’s face for a moment, but she recovers quickly. “Are you even thicker than I thought?” she scoffs. “Your brother meddled with the Cursed Vaults, nearly destroyed Hogwarts, got expelled-”

“That’s why you hate Jacob,” you point out, keeping your voice reasonable, “but why do you hate _me?_ ”

“You’re just like him. Interfering with the vaults, stopping me from finding them first-“

“Who decided I was stopping you? I must have offered to work together half a dozen times. You keep saying no-”

“Because you’re a moron who can’t even tie your shoelaces without your _friends_ helping you.” Merula’s cheeks are steadily reddening. From long experience dealing with her both in and outside of classes, you know that an explosion of temper is close. For a Slytherin, Merula has never been very subtle. “Don’t pretend your so-called offers are anything more than an attempt to satisfy your stupid Hufflepuff conscience, or that you wouldn’t betray me as soon as you got the chance. You hate me just as much as I hate you. Just admit it.”

You take a deep breath. “That’s wrong, Merula. I don’t hate you. I never have.”

For a few seconds, Merula just looks stupefied. She opens her mouth once and no words come out. Then, the eruption finally comes.

“You don’t hate me,” she fumes. “ _You – don’t – hate – me._ Ha! You must have less brains than a Flobberworm, if you think I buy that. You…” Merula points a shaking finger at your face. “You’ve been a thorn in my side from the moment I set foot in Hogwarts. You’ve shown me up in classes. You’ve humiliated me in duels. You’ve turned my friends against me. You keep stumbling into Cursed Vaults before I have the chance to find them, no matter how hard I work. You ruin _everything_ for me, and then you say – you have the nerve – _gah!_ ”

She pulls out her wand and levels it at you. The urge to draw your own is overwhelming; you’ve never lost a duel to Merula and you don’t want to start now. But you push down that urge ruthlessly. This time _will_ be different.

Slowly, deliberately, you raise your hands. “I won’t duel you again,” you say firmly. “I never wanted this stupid rivalry in the first place. For God’s sake, Merula. I’m a Hufflepuff. We don’t _do_ arch-enemies! If you want to curse me, go ahead, but I’m not going to fight you anymore. I’m done.”

Merula’s jaw tightens. Your gamble has worked; as much as she despises you, she can’t see anything to be gained by hexing you while you’re defenceless and outright refusing to fight back. (She did do that, once, but she was a childish eleven-year-old then and she’s far from it now.) However, she keeps her wand trained on you, almost jabbing you in the nose.

“I don’t hate you,” you say again. “I never did, even though you’ve given me plenty of reason to. You tried to kill me before I’d ever done anything to you – the Devil’s Snare, remember?” You notice that Merula flinches at the reminder. It mustn’t be her proudest memory. “But we were kids. Stupid kids with no sense of proportion. Locking me in that room was just your idea of a clever prank, and I forgave you for it ages ago.”

That seems to startle Merula into speech. “I don’t want your forgiveness,” she hisses.

“Too bad. You have it anyway,” you retort. “The same goes for everything since then. All the insults, harassing me about the vaults, challenging me to duels. It’s all just words, and I got used to dealing with that a long time ago.”

Merula’s wand twitches, as if she wants to prove she isn’t all talk. But she doesn’t curse you – not yet. “You’re not such a pacifist when we’re duelling,” she grinds out instead.

“Have you ever given me a choice? First year, you bullied Ben. Second year, you threatened him and Rowan. Third year, I needed to get into the Cursed Vault. Need I go on? It’s never been about you. I’ve only ever fought you to protect my friends and to find the vaults – to find my brother.”

“And what about _my_ friends?” Merula’s voice shakes slightly. “Tulip and Barnaby… you couldn’t be happy with your own gang of nobodies. You _had_ to humiliate me by stealing mine.”

You chew on your words for a few seconds. You know that this is the heart of the matter; of everything you’ve done to Merula, this is what hurt her the most. However noble your reasons were, you’ve deprived her of two of her only companions at Hogwarts.

“Tulip and Barnaby made their own choices,” you say at last. “But… from the way Tulip tells it, you never treated her very well. You belittled her, you ordered her around. And you did the same with Barnaby, and you do it with Ismelda. I’ve seen it.” You hesitate again. “Merula… have you ever had a _real_ friend? Someone who you’re not superior to, or just working with… but you just talk with, and hang around, and play games. Not because you have to, but because you _want_ to… because that’s what friends are for.”

Merula stares at you. She doesn’t seem capable of speech. The hand holding her wand is trembling.

“I don’t think you have,” you go on quietly, “and that’s partly why I don’t hate you. I don’t think you’re a bad person. I just… I think you’re very lonely.”

You stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, and then something happens that shocks you. You see Merula’s lip tremble and a tear starts to trickle out of her left eye. Merula seems as surprised as you and she slaps the left side of her face, angrily flicking the tear away.

“You know nothing about me,” she says scathingly, lowering her wand at last and stowing it back in her robes. “I don’t need you humiliating me anymore, so save the pity and go back to Haywood and Khanna and your stupid f-friends…”

The effect is ruined as she chokes on the last word. She makes to step around you, perhaps wanting to break into a run, but you’re not letting her leave. Not now. You step sideways, arms outstretched, blocking her path, and she freezes. The two of you are almost nose to nose.

“Don’t you get it?” you say, and though your insides are burning with frustration, with desire, willing her to open her eyes and _see_ … somehow, you keep your voice steady. “I’m not trying to humiliate you. I’m trying to _help_ you. I know you better than you think, Merula Snyde…”

You’re not sure why you use her full name, but it feels inexplicably intoxicating on your lips, and you unconsciously lick them. Merula’s violet eyes bore into yours, tear track below the left eye and all. She seems to have lost the power of speech.

“I know you don’t have anyone who loves you,” you whisper. “I want to be that person.”

Her breath hitches. You lean in closer.

“If you’ll let me…”

You close the final inch or so between yourself and Merula, and kiss her.

For a moment, nothing happens. You’re shocked at your own audacity. Then, something even more unbelievable takes place. She responds, leaning into you, feverishly deepening the kiss. Your tongues do a strange sort of dance in your mouths as she grapples at your robes, bringing your bodies together. She grunts hungrily and you wonder how long and how hard she’s been holding this back, this desperate need for human touch.

You only step back to break the kiss when your head is light for lack of oxygen. Silence ensues as you and Merula lock eyes once more. You’re at a loss for what to say. What just happened? What now?

“I…” Merula stammers at last, breathlessly. “I guess I’ll see you…” Then she steps past you and scoots away as fast as her feet will carry her. This time, you don’t stop her.

You’re left alone in the basement corridor, with the common room entrance towards the end. No one has seen what just transpired; dinner must not yet be over. Has your whole world changed in so short a time?

You look back, staring in the direction Merula just disappeared to. Perhaps she’s regretting her actions now, and hating you all the more for seeing her at her most vulnerable. Perhaps next time you meet, she’ll pretend it was nothing more than an odd dream, and you’ll be enemies again. Or maybe not. Maybe this will be the moment that changes everything. For Merula, and for you.

You allow a small smile to cross your face.

_Your move, Merula._

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in year 5 of Hogwarts Mystery. It was written when only years 1, 2 and part of 3 had been released. As such, some of the characterisations may not be as accurate as I'd like them to be. I apologise if that's the case.


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